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know one Day my Prince will come, |
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no need for him to be well hung: |
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He will have other Qualities, |
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some of which you have ... never seen ...before. |
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I struggled in my girlish mind |
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trying so hard to dream up my only Mister Right... |
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...But not a single vision ever came to me...- |
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such is the Love that is not meant to be... |
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Oh, illusive, Amphibian, |
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in on a poisonous scheme, |
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in his inditrious house |
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dwells the old Sham of a Beast; |
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beware, the walls are made of glass... |
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yes, all here imitates Life, |
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and the Symptoms of your Sadness |
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are the Key to this place... |
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There are two precious holes left in the transparent lif, |
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once, in a gesture of Hope, glued to the Barrel's sharpest Edge; |
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the larger one of the Tunnles allows the channeled Waters to flow, |
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because the other One's the Exit Door where the air comes and goes... |
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The Bubbles of the spectacle |
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unfold their Magic(k), obscene, |
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the offered rivers all turn lethal |
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as the large Frog disappears, through Veils of sickest Transformation, |
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the oldest of all gestures is born; |
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a Miniature of a Prince appears and He is dancing on the Crystal floor... |
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It is imperative now |
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to empty your bladder and your bowls, |
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in only 3 glorious Days the Prince, he stretcyes & GROWS, |
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all to It s pre-destined size, bearing Love's promise of Life; |
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through the disease of a toy we face our secret Desire. |
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I know... one day my prince will come, |
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no need for him to be well hung, |
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He will have other Qualities, |
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a whole Bouguet of Flowers yet unseen before. |
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I struggled in my girlish mind |
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trying... oh,so hard... to dream up my own Mister Right... |
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But not a single vision ever came to me... |
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as I was polishing the armoury. |
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Gone is the fragile Beauty the good Fairies have called, |
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once the tide of the fourth day washes over shores, |
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grown into oddless angler, all distorted & wrong, |
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so grotesque beyond comprehension, |
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a royal Dick tries to come... |